


There's a Little Piece of Heaven (Right Where You Are)

by Willaphyx



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Just a whole lotta fluff, implied nathan miller/monty green, implied octavia blake/lincoln - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 07:15:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6042844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Willaphyx/pseuds/Willaphyx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I want you to marry me.”<br/>Bellamy’s jaw dropped and for the first time, Clarke thought that maybe this wasn’t the greatest idea.<br/>Clarke is being deported and Bellamy happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.  Or a The Proposal AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's a Little Piece of Heaven (Right Where You Are)

**Author's Note:**

> I've been trying to write a The Proposal AU for bellarke for forever and this time it finally clicked!  
> The title is from Theory of a Deadman's Little by Little

Clarke was already having a bad day when the letter arrived on her desk, neatly centered on the top of the overflowing pile of mail, demanding to be paid attention to.

 

“Department of Homeland Security” it trumpeted across the top left corner.“U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services.”

Clarke felt the bottom of her stomach drop out.It was with shaking hands that she reached out and snapped it up, tearing it open and scanning the letter.

“Fuck,” she muttered, when her eyes had reached the bottom and the clearly photocopied signature.

This was definitely not how she’d imagined today going.

Clarke practically ran out of her office, dodging interns and the mail guy with that stupid cart that he just couldn’t push above a snail’s pace.The reception area was buzzing as always but her focus was on Roma, the receptionist, who had a phone pressed to her ear and was scanning a website, relaying information.

Clarke slammed her hands down on the reception desk.The average person would have jumped, or flinched, but Roma was used to Clarke by now.Clarke had tried to offer her a personal assistant job after Roma’d been with the company for a few months but she’d resolutely turned it down, claiming that actually working for Clarke would kill her.And then, like the mature individual that Clarke Griffin was, she’d refused to get another assistant and instead made frequent trips to reception when she needed to schedule lunches with people she hated talking to.She told her boss she was trying to exercise more and she was all about saving the company money.In reality, it was because of the moments like this when Roma looked up at her, all expectant, and said, “What is it now, Clarke?”

“I need you to call—”

“No, thank you, I know where I’m going,” a voice said behind her.She froze.She knew that voice.

She pivoted and scanned the mass of people between her and the door, looking for that familiar mop of black hair.She strode off through the crowd.

“Clarke?” Roma called.“You know, I haven’t perfected mind reading yet!”

“Bellamy!”

He turned.“Clarke, how lovely to see you.”

“I need to talk to you.”She grabbed him by the arm and dragged him past reception.

“I actually, uh, I had a meeting?”

“Not anymore you don’t.”

She slammed shut the door of her office and pointed at the chair she kept for visitors.He folded himself into it, watching her like a cornered animal.

“Does this thing have to be so uncomfortable?” he complained.

She just snorted and pushed the letter at him.His look of pained anger fell off his face in exchange for concern.

“Clarke?What’s this?”

“Read it.”

He did, brows furrowing deeper with every line.

“Shit,” he said as he folded it up and slipped it back into the envelope.“How did this happen?”

She shrugged.

“Clarke.”

“Okay, I _may_ have forgotten about the deadline to renew my Visa.”

“Clarke!”

“What?” she demanded.“Roma didn’t remind me!”

“Roma _is not your assistant._ ”

She glowered.He shook his head.“Jesus Christ.”He pushed a hand through his hair.She made herself look away.“Okay, well, what the hell are you going to do?”

She leaned forward, feeling that pit of dread in her stomach again.“I can’t go back to Australia, Bellamy, I _can’t_.”

“Well, this says that the Department of Homeland Security is going to deport you. _Deport you_.”

She sniffed.“I’m aware of what it says, thank you.”

“Clarke, this is serious.”

“I know that!” she snapped.“Which is why I want you to help me.”

“Help you how exactly?”

“I want you to marry me.”

Bellamy’s jaw dropped and for the first time, Clarke thought that maybe this wasn’t the greatest idea.

 

“You probably should have eased him into it a bit better,”Raven told her over drinks that night and Clarke nodded morosely.

“I was probably a bit too intense,” she admitted.

“Babe, you’re _always_ intense.It’s like a spectrum with you.And work Clarke is the scariest and most intense Clarke.”

Clarke just grimaced and knocked back another shot.She’d been hoping that alcohol would help erase the dumbfounded and honestly _horrified_ look on Bellamy’s face when she’d proposed.Okay, she hadn’t really even proposed, she’d kind of demanded.Needless to say, it wasn’t working.

“But he said yes, right?” Raven prompted.

“Yeah.But it sounded like he’d rather marry a hippo.”

“You’re much prettier.Nicer for photos.”

“You are so unhelpful.Why did I ask you to come with me again?”

“Because your only other options were the man you asked to marry you earlier or…his sister.”

“Octavia,” Clarke groaned.“Right.”

“If it’s any consolation Bellamy’s probably already told her,” Raven said.“So at least you don’t have to break the news.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing.”

Raven tipped her glass in Clarke’s direction and took a long drag.“Right you are.Hey, why didn’t you just ask a chick?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“If you asked, I’m sure 95% of the girls in this place would pretend to be engaged to you for some weird hearing thing.Hell, I’d do it.”

“Raven. You have a boyfriend.”

Raven shrugged.

“You have a boyfriend _who is my_ _high school boyfriend._ ”

“Exactly, Wells already got to date you, I didn’t.I’m sure he’d understand.”

Clarke spluttered.“Back to Bellamy,” she managed.

Raven rolled her eyes.

“You had like a thing with him for a while, right?”

Raven choked.

“Come on, I know you two thought you were being sneaky but literally _everyone_ knows about it.”

Raven’s eyes were watering when she looked back at Clarke.

“It was like barely a thing,” she protested.“Like a series of one night stands with the same person.I swear to God.”

Clarke rolled her eyes.“I’m not judging you, Raven, we both went through that Finn situation.”

Raven shuddered.

“I’m just asking because… well, like, is he a good choice?”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether or not you’re actually planning on marrying him.Because if you are, he’s excellent fatherhood material.”

“Raven!”

Raven just shrugged and took another sip of her drink.But that, Clarke thought, as the bartender slid her another drink, was the problem.She didn’t even know.

 

Clarke found Octavia curled up on her couch watching reruns of _F.R.I.E.N.D.S._ The lights in the living room are off, and Octavia’s eyes glint in the flashing light from the TV.

“I hear congratulations are in order,” she said, voice too neutral for Clarke to read.

Clarke dropped her purse and toed off her shoes.She padded into the living room and picked up the remote, clicking off the TV.Octavia shifted over to make room for her.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” Clarke replied.

“I’m not angry.”

“Then what are you doing in my apartment with the lights off?It’s like every horror movie ever.”

“I was watching a _sitcom_.Anyway, you know Bellamy, he’s too cheap to pay for Comcast.”

Despite herself, Clarke laughed.“You could just sleep in your own apartment sometimes.”

Octavia scoffed.“And give up our exceptional sibling bonding time?Please.”She paused.“Anyway, after the wedding I’ll be moving in with Lincoln.”

“Right, shit, the wedding.”

Octavia smiled.“Guess this means you’re coming now.”

“O…you know I can’t make it.Everything at work is so busy.”

“You’re marrying my brother, Clarke.You have to.I insist on having my future sister-in-law in my wedding party.”

Clarke’s look was pleading but Octavia just grinned back.“I’m sure Bell will insist on the same thing.”

“I doubt Bellamy wants to so much as be in the same room with me right now,” Clarke grumbled.“I think he agreed more out of shock than anything.”

Octavia slanted a look at her.“I think you’d be surprised by my brother’s motivations.”She leaned forward and swooped up the remote again, clicking the TV back on.

“What did you—“

“Shhh,” Octavia hissed.“This is like my favorite episode of all time.”

Clarke sunk back into the cushions, mulling over Octavia’s words.Was there the smallest of chances that Octavia was right?And if she was, what did it mean?

 

The next day at the office Clarke was a mess.She had to type emails five times before she actually said what she meant to, she got distracted on so many phone calls that she started just ignoring her phone when it rang, and by lunch time she knew that she just had to get out of there.She sped by the front desk, telling Roma that she was going home, and it felt like she didn’t breathe until she was safely in her car with the locks down.

She tipped her head back against the seat and sighed.Maybe she should have just gone back to Australia.That would have at least been easier than this whole mess she’d managed to tangle herself into.

She checked the blinking clock on her dashboard and turned the key in the ignition.There was only one person she could talk to now.And he was on a break between classes.

Bellamy’s office was in a small brick building adjacent to the main history building.It was falling down and almost always smelled like mothballs but he claimed to like it more than the hustle and bustle of the halls where most of his colleagues were.He shared the open-concept top floor with another associate professor who taught classics and Clarke hated him a little as she hauled herself up the stairs (the elevator hadn’t worked since Bellamy had started working at the university) and she emerged huffing and puffing at the top and almost ran smack-dab into her fake finance.

“Clarke?” His voice was surprised and Clarke almost considered turning around and leaving.

“Hey, Bellamy,” she said instead.“I thought we could talk?”

“I was just going to get lunch,” he said slowly.“Chinese?”

They’d been sitting at the table for fifteen minutes before either of them said anything.

“I, uh, I got you something,” Bellamy told her, sounding shyer than she’d ever heard him.

“You didn’t have to…” she trailed off as he pushed a small square box towards her across the table.

His lips quirked up into the smallest of smiles.“Seems kind of wrong if I didn’t.”

She cracked it open and pressed a hand to her mouth.“Bellamy,” she whispered.

“It was mine and O’s grandmother’s,” he said quietly.“I’ve been saving it.”

She put it down and shook her head.Pushed it back towards him.“I can’t accept this.”

Clarke—“

“No, Bellamy, I can’t.You should give this ring to someone who really deserves it.Not me.”

“Put on the damn ring, Clarke,” he said and his voice was low, dangerous.

She swallowed and stared him down.She’d never really thought of Bellamy Blake as threatening but here in this small hole-in-the-wall Chinese restaurant, full of bustling noise and the smell of cooking meat, she was suddenly feeling meek.

“Okay,” she said, taking it carefully from the box and slipping it onto her finger.It almost surprised her how well it fit.“Thank you.”

He nodded brusquely and whipped open his menu, straight to business.

“Octavia texted me last night and told me you’re coming to the wedding,” he told the page about noodle dishes.“I changed my reservation to fit both of us.”

There was a lump in Clarke’s throat.“Thank you.”

“We fly out on Saturday.Rehearsal dinner’s on Sunday, wedding’s on Monday, and we fly back early Tuesday morning.”He looked at her over the top of his menu.“Okay?”

She nodded wordlessly.

“Good.”A long pause.“I think I might have the lo mein.”

“It’s good here,” she said, feeling a little like she couldn’t breathe.

“It is, isn’t it.”He looked up at her again and she almost couldn’t bear the pity in his eyes.

“You don’t have to do this, Clarke.”He put the menu down and leaned towards her.“I can take that ring back, you can leave, and we can pretend this never happened.”

“No,” she said, “I’m committed now.”She’d thought about it since they sat down but it wasn’t until now that she felt brave enough to reach out and put her hand over his.He stiffened a bit then relaxed, and there was a surprised look in his eye that made him look younger.“Thank you.”

The look they shared was long and soul-searching.“What are friends for,” he said in a dismissive tone.

But that was the thing, Clarke thought, as he withdrew his hand to reach for his water glass.Clarke and Bellamy had never really been friends.

They’d met in their college library when Bellamy had stretched out his leg from under his study carrel and tripped Clarke into a bookshelf, sending books toppling and the shelf wobbling.Clarke had been furious and the resulting argument had resulted in both of them being banned from the library for the semester.

After that they’d continued running into each other: in the coffee shop Clarke often frequented, in the elevator that constantly malfunctioned, on the too narrow shortcut pathway between the Science and English buildings, and, Clarke’s personal favorite, in her own damn dorm room on the special occasion on which she discovered that her new roommate (assigned after her old one had turned out to be a klepto) was Bellamy’s sister.

But Clarke and Octavia had gotten closer and Bellamy and Clarke had had no choice but to work things out.What resulted was an uneasy truce by the time Bellamy graduated.They didn’t _like_ each other per se but they were capable of spending time together without getting into an argument over ridiculous things like why chunky peanut butter was better than smooth or if margarine or butter were better for toast.

Their relationship had only strengthened over time until they were floating somewhere in the uneasy seas between casual acquaintances and friends.It kept her up at night sometimes, mulling over what their relationship was, what it meant, and why she was so attracted to him.

When their waiter came by she asked for the pork and vegetable dumplings and handed over her menu, momentarily distracted by the flashing rainbow light of the diamond on her finger.She swallowed.Bellamy’s eyes, she noticed, were also drawn there, his expression unreadable.

“Did you tell your mom?” she managed.

“Yes.I told her it was all very sudden.That we were wildly in love, blah blah blah.”

She cracked a small smile.“She must have gotten a kick out of that.”

Bellamy snorted and looked away but she took his silence as an affirmation.He’d always been Mr. By the Rules and she was sure his family was dumbfounded by the idea of Bellamy and a shotgun wedding.

“Why did you say yes?”

He looked back at her, chewing his lip.“It doesn’t matter.”

She opened her mouth to press the issue but he gave her a stern look.She nodded once. “Okay.”

 

The voice over the intercom blared, too loud, and Clarke jumped.

“Now boarding all rows for Alaska Airlines flight 307 to Seattle.This is our final boarding call.All passengers should report to Gate A2.”

Next to her, Bellamy stood and slung his messenger bag over his shoulder.Clarke followed his lead, picking up her purse and pushing her hair out of her face.Knowing that he would follow, she joined the growing line in front of the check-in desk, Bellamy hovering awkwardly behind her.

It had been like this since he’d picked her up at her apartment that morning.Clarke had almost forgotten to slip her ring onto her finger that morning, and she was halfway out the door before she noticed it glinting at her from the kitchen counter.It was cold against the delicate skin of her finger and she felt trapped.

She handed her boarding pass to the gate agent and the machine beeped happily back at her.“Enjoy your flight,” the woman said cheerily, handing back the paper with a smile.Clarke offered her back a bitten smile and shoved past into the tunnel.

The flight was packed and Clarke had to maneuver someone else’s roller bag out of the way in the overhead bins to make room for her own.Bellamy had swooped it up easily before she had the chance, slotting it in and wandering another two aisles up to slide in his own.

“You didn’t have to…” she said and he gave her a scathing look.

“Jesus Christ, Clarke,” he muttered as he slid past her into the window seat (damn him, he remembered how much she hated being that close to a window on planes).“Even if I’m your fake fiance I’m going to be a good one.Okay?”

There was a challenge in his voice that Clarke didn’t want to butt up against.

“Okay.”

He nodded as if that settled it (as if) and pulled the safety booklet out of the seat cushion and pretended to be engrossed.Clarke tightened and loosened her seatbelt, just for something to do and waited.The plane taxied out onto the runway and gained speed, rushing down towards the end until Clarke felt that familiar tug that signaled liftoff.

For once, the painful squeezing in her ears was a welcome sensation as she closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the head rest, momentarily forgetting that she was on a plane headed to a state she’d never been to,next to the man who used to be her arch-nemesis, with his ring on her finger.

 

The flight was shorter than Clarke had been hoping.She was used to cross-country flights from San Francisco to New York and the coastal trip seemed to go by in the blink of an eye.The plane touched down with the smallest of bumps and Clarke leaned out just slightly to look over Bellamy’s lap out the window.The outside was exactly like she’d been expecting from the Pacific Northwest: gray, low-hanging clouds, and a darker tint to the asphalt that suggested it had rained, even if it wasn’t now.

“Thank you for flying with us today, ladies and gentlemen,” one of the flight attendants said as they turned towards a terminal.“And welcome to SeaTac Airport, we hope you enjoy your stay.”

They skipped baggage claim, having only packed carry ons, and Bellamy shepherded her out to the ground transportation area.He dialed a number on his phone and said something quiet to someone before hanging up and sitting on a concrete bench to his left.Clarke trailed after him.

“What are we waiting for?” she asked, gesturing to the line of cabs waiting for customers.

“Do you want to pay a three hundred dollar cab fee?” he asked her.“Because I certainly don’t.”

She gaped.

“Did Octavia never tell you that we aren’t actually from the city?” he asked, a line appearing between his eyebrows.

“I mean, yeah, but I figured that it was like twenty minutes out or something.A suburb?”

The incredulous look on his face made her feel instantly stupid.

“It’s about an hour drive,” he told her.“I always rent a car when I come home.”

“Oh,” she said quietly, falling onto the bench next to him.“Okay.”

Clarke couldn’t deny that it was a beautiful drive.She’d grown up in a metropolitan area on the East Coast, an urban monstrosity built out of concrete and steel, but here it was different.When they pulled out of the rental car lot and Bellamy merged onto the highway, it was almost a tunnel of green, evergreen trees stretching up on either side of them, seeming to almost puncture the clouds above them.He took an exit for Interstate-90 East and punched a button on the radio.Classic rock wafted out of the speakers.

“Just under an hour if we don’t hit traffic,” he told her.“If you’re tired from the flight now would be a good time to nap.It’ll be pretty crazy when we get to the house.”

“I practically fly for a living,” she grouched.“I’m fine.”

But she leaned her forehead against the cool glass of the window anyway.Not to sleep, but to watch the scenery flash by on the side of the road, to make out the white letters on a green background, spelling out names of cities that she’d never visit and could barely even pronounce.

Bellevue.Redmond.Issaquah.Fall City.Snoqualmie.Easton.Roslyn.

She was mesmerized by the exposed cliff faces over Snoqualmie Pass and the seemingly endless waterfalls, big and small, that poured over the rock.

“It’s one of western Washington’s main ski areas,” Bellamy told her, gesturing to an exit sign for the Hyak Recreational Center.“We used to come here a lot when O and I were kids.”

She nodded and looked up at the barren hills and deserted ski lifts, trying to imagine them piled high with white snow.But then they were turning a corner and it was out of sight.

They passed a sign that read “Entering City of Ellensburg, Population 18,363” and Bellamy turned into the right lane, taking Exit 106 for Central Washington University.Clarke watched the green sign flash by as they took the ramp, the car slowing to come to a stop facing the red light staring resolutely at them.There was a twisting ball of anxiety in her stomach.

Clarke had never met any of the Blakes other Bellamy and Octavia and she liked it that way.She really didn’t know anything about them except that they were from somewhere in Washington, grew up with lesser means, and that they’d both moved away from home as quickly as they could.Apparently Bellamy had stayed in the area for undergrad until Octavia finished high school and then followed her down to California, which is where their path had intersected with Clarke’s.And now, here she was, all of her carefully laid plans to avoid awkward family meetings lying in smoking ruins as she hurtled down a one-lane state highway in a town she’d never even heard of.

Then Bellamy was slowing and turning into a dusty driveway, stretching out to the horizon, ending god knew where.A sign a hundred feet from the road proclaimed “Lucky Stars Ranch, NO VACANCY” in that slightly charming run-down way that Clarke had come to associate with small towns.

The pastures appeared next, constructed of basic wooden posts, and each containing…

“Horses,” Clarke breathed, more of a question than a statement.

She saw Bellamy look over at her out of the corner of her eye.“Welcome to the family business,” is all he said, and the car shot forward.

It turned out that Max and Aurora Blake ran a recreational horse ranch.Clarke hadn’t even known that such things existed, but apparently they did.

“We have cabins on the property,” Bellamy explained, “but a lot of our customers are local or come over from the other side of the mountains for the day.Or they’re staying at one of the resort areas around.”

“There are resorts?”

“Sure.This place transforms in the winter.Lots of skiing.”

“I didn’t realize it snowed here.”

He cracked a grin.“The eastern side of the mountains get a fair amount.”

The house wasn’t as big as she’d been expecting, given the size of the property, but it was far from small.Bellamy added their rental car to the long line of dust-stained vehicles already parked to the left of the building and turned off the engine.He reached for his door then stopped, turning towards her.

“You ready?”

She sucked in a breath and nodded.“Yeah.”

“Okay.”He squeezed her hand, and when her retracted his fingers, they brushed against the sharp-cut diamond on her finger.“Everything’s going to be fine.”

But it sounded more like he was trying to reassure himself.

Clarke barely got a chance to catalogue the contents of the foyer (there was a lot of honeyed wood, family photographs, and a softly ticking grandfather clock in the corner) before she was knocked almost backwards by the force of Octavia’s hug.

“You came!” she practically yelled into Clarke’s ear and despite herself, Clarke found she was smiling.

“I’m pretty sure Bellamy would have physically dragged me onto the plane,” Clarke remarked dryly.

“Luckily,” he said from behind her, “such drastic measures weren’t necessary.Hey, O, good to see you.”

His sister relinquished her death hold on Clarke to hug him.“Hey, big brother.”

“You made good time, Bellamy,” an unfamiliar but warm female voice said from further into the room, and Clarke laid eyes on Aurora Blake for the first time.

She looked a lot like her children, with Octavia’s pale skin and Bellamy’s eyes, and that dark hair of a hue that Clarke had never seen replicated outside of the Blake siblings.She smiled at Clarke and there was a bit of Bellamy, too, Clarke thought, in the crinkles around her eyes and the way the corners of her mouth turned up.

“You must be Clarke,” she said, holding out her hand.

Her handshake was firm yet gentle and Clarke found that her smile was infectious.

“That’s me.”

“Bellamy and Octavia have both told me so much about you. It’s a pleasure to have you.”

“Thank you for taking me in so late notice.”

“Well my husband and I are just glad that your event fell through so you were able to be with our family for this very important event.”She looped an arm around her daughter’s shoulders and squeezed.Octavia was practically glowing.

“I’ll just take Clarke and my stuff upstairs,” Bellamy said.

“We’ll be out back,” Aurora told him.“Your father’s just finishing up a ride.He should be back by dinner.”

Bellamy nodded and swooped up both his and Clarke’s suitcases before she could reach for hers, and started up the stairs.She followed, biting her tongue on a protest that she could carry her own damn luggage, remembering what he’d said to her on the plane.The staircase was lined with a row of pictures.There was twelve-year old Bellamy and nine-year old Octavia.There was a younger Aurora leading a pony and a laughing man with Octavia’s nose holding a baby in the saddle.There was Bellamy at his high school graduation, cap jammed down over his curly hair, honor cords around his neck.And there was Octavia and Lincoln’s engagement photo, Octavia’s ring sparkling in the sun.Clarke swallowed and looked away.

The upstairs landing was one long hallway.Polished hardwood underneath a long throw rug led them to the last door on the right.Bellamy pushed it open slowly, almost nervously.Clarke followed him inside.

Clarke has been to Bellamy’s apartment a fair few times since they found themselves on better footing.It’s small but well laid out, with matching furniture from IKEA and a recliner chair that Octavia dragged home from a garage sale and insisted that Bellamy put in his living room.He kept it in its place of honor long after she moved out.The point is, that Bellamy’s apartment is nice.There are bookshelves filled with textbooks and autobiographies, there are ceramics from when Octavia was in elementary school in the kitchen, and he has a few framed photos.But this room is nothing like his apartment.This room is _Bellamy_ like nothing Clarke could have expected.

The bedspread is inherently juvenile, patterned with the names of Greek gods and goddesses in a whimsical font, the rug is threadbare, and the bed looks like it’s an inch too short for Bellamy’s post-high school growth spurt, but feels at ease in a way that she never has around Bellamy’s possessions before.He always gives off a vibe of trying too hard to appear professional, scholarly maybe, and it has the unintended effect of making him stoic and unreachable.But this room humanizes him, shows the beginner’s mythology books that he lovingly turned every page of until the spines cracked and separated and unashamedly pronounces teenaged Bellamy’s love for classic rock.A Led Zeppelin poster there, a framed Aerosmith record here.Clarke loved it.

Bellamy dropping their suitcases broke her out of her reverie.

“It’s not much,” he said slowly.

“It’s you,” she told him.“It’s great.”

His answering smile was shy, almost hidden in his shoulder.“Do you want to unpack now or…?”

“Doesn’t matter.”She walked over to the desk and picked up one of the frames there.“Is this you?”

He was behind her before she even heard him move, hand ghosting against her back just enough to make her shiver.“Yeah.That’s Shadow.He was my first horse.”

Clarke smiled.“You were adorable.”

His answering snort was derisive.She just grinned at him.

 

Clarke had been expecting the weekend to be a disaster.She preferred avoiding her significant others’ families as much as possible because it made things easier when they had to end.Octavia called her a pessimist, said that her relationships always ended before they could even begin because Clarke strangled them.Clarke maintained that it was only practical.She’d never been looking for anything serious and the few times she’d stumbled across it by accident had quickly promised catastrophic failure.

So this, sitting around a family dinner table with a bunch of strangers, Bellamy on one side, Octavia on the other, was something new.

“Would you pass the bread please, Clarke?” Mr. Blake — Max — was asking.

Clarke startled and picked up the basket, handing it to him.He smiled at her.

“So, Clarke,” Aurora said as she speared a piece of lettuce.“You’re an artist?”

“A flailing one,” she replied.

Everyone else at the table chuckled.

“She’s good,” Bellamy said from her right and Clarke flushed.

“Well, of course you think so,” Octavia retorted.

He aimed for kicking her and missed, nailing Clarke in the shins instead.Her eyes watered.

“Shit, sorry,” he was whispering in her ear, hand on her back.“You okay?”

Clarke wasn’t sure she could form words yet so she just patted him on the hand that was wrapped around her wrist.“Grand,” she managed.

“What type of career are you interested in pursuing?” Aurora continued.“Selling your own work?Maybe a gallery?”

“I’ve been giving a lot of serious thought to restoration lately, actually, “Clarke told her, cutting her steak.“And working in a museum.”

“Well that sounds fascinating.”Clarke looked up, ready to defend herself but, it appeared that Aurora actually had meant it.She opened her mouth, closed it.This was a new feeling, this not having to defend all of her choices to the adults in her life.

“My mom doesn’t think so.”

Aurora waved a dismissive hands.“Pish posh.If you kids did everything we old people told you to do there’d be no fun in anything.Do you think I want my oldest teaching history and working in a closet?No, of course not.But it brings him joy and that’s enough for me.”She beamed at Bellamy and Clarke couldn’t help but smile at the reddish tinge working its way over the shell of Bellamy’s ear.

“I think that’s enough of embarrassing the children for one day, Aurora,” Max told her kindly and she smiled back at him in that easy way that said they were still in deep, timeless love.Clarke had never seen that look on either of her parents’ faces.

“Can you ride, Clarke?” he asked her.

She shook her head.

“I was planning on taking her out tomorrow.Down to the canyon probably, that’s an easy ride,” Bellamy cut in.

“Oh, that’s a wonderful idea,” Aurora said.

“You want to come, O?”

“Thanks but no, Lincoln’s flying in tomorrow morning and we have a lot to do before the rehearsal dinner.”She leaned across Clarke.“And shame on you for stealing my maid of honor, too.”

Bellamy snorted.“Your maid of honor, my fiancé.I think I win, don’t you?”

It was the first time she’d heard him use the word fiancé.And Clarke realized that really, she liked the way it sounded rolling off his tongue far too much.

 

“They like you,” Bellamy told her later when they were climbing back up the stairs.“I knew they would.”

“You sound proud of yourself.”

He laughed, and it sounded a little sheepish.“Maybe I am.”

Clarke wasn’t quite sure she knew what to say to that.“Self-assuredness doesn’t look good on you,” she snapped back and he laughed again.

She followed Bellamy through the door and froze, kicking herself that she hadn’t thought of this before.

“Something wrong?” he asks her, turning back, looking a little worried.

“Just, uh.”She gestured to the bed.The single _full_ bed.

“Oh.”He deflated.“Yeah.”A pause.“What side do you want?”

“ _I’m sorry?”_

“Keep your voice down,” he hissed.“This house is ancient, they’ll be able to hear everything.”

“ _I’m sorry?”_ she repeated, lower this time.

“I know you understand English, Clarke, but I’ll say it again.What side do you want?”

“Is the floor an option?”

“Please. I’m not that horrible am I?”

She gaped at him.“I’m not sleeping with you.”

“Whoa whoa whoa there, cowgirl, slow it down.”

“And none of that either. _Cowgirl_ ,” she muttered.

He pinched his nose between his fingers.“Please, Clarke.”

It was probably the please that did her in.After all, he was doing this for her, and he had brought her into his childhood home, introduced her to his parents, called her his damn _fiancé_ , and now she was being a bitch about it.She couldn’t believe herself.

“Shit, Bell, I’m sorry,” she said after a long awkward pause.“I’ll take the left.”She threw a glance over her shoulder, smiling slightly.“As long as you promise not to kick me.”

The smile she got in response was chewed off but there.“Wrong Blake sibling.”

Another awkward pause.Clarke traced Hera’s name with a finger.

Bellamy cleared his throat.“I’ll, uh, go brush my teeth and stuff.”

“Right, yeah, okay.”

He closed the door behind himself and Clarke crossed the room to her suitcase, unzipping it and pulling out her pajamas.She should have expected this bedspring thing, honestly, and packed more sensible sleepwear.Instead, here she was with a pair of tiny shorts and a shrunken t-shirt.Whatever.Bellamy would have to deal.She slipped them on then tip-toed out into the hallway, bag of toiletries in hand, and followed the sound of running water.

Bellamy was standing at the counter in only boxers, toothbrush in his mouth.He stepped quickly to the side giving her some room and she opened the bag, pulling out her makeup remover and a facecloth.They didn’t speak and yet, somehow they knew just how to move around each other.When to let the water run.When the other person was going to reach for the hand towel to dry their fingers.Bellamy trailed her back into his room and Clarke tried not to wonder if she was staring at her ass.

She slid into bed first, relishing the cold of the sheets against her legs.He followed after, clicking off the lamp on his bedside table.Bellamy shifted and his arm brushed hers.He jerked away.She lay still, staring up at the ceiling, mind clicking through options.

Finally, she turned onto her side, found Bellamy’s profile in the moonlight.He was on his back, posture stiff, probably with the effort of not touching her on accident.His eyes were open.She could see the small pinpricks of light in them, the reflection of the stars in the inky black nothingness outside.She moved her hand carefully, wrapping it around his arm and snuggling in.He froze for a long moment and she worried that she’d taken it too far, that he’d really kick her onto the floor.Then he sighed and scooted closer, tilting over so that he was facing her, and bringing his other arm firmly around her, sandwiching them together.His fingers brushed the smallest patch of skin between her waistband and the hem of her shirt and, despite herself, Clarke shivered just slightly.She felt the answering curve of his lips against her hair and decided that she didn’t even care.

 

She woke up the next morning with the smell of an unfamiliar detergent in her nose and Bellamy’s hand tangled in her hair.She felt overly conscious of how terrible her breath probably smelled.

“Hey,” he murmured, sounding a little groggy.His hand detangled from her hair but she couldn’t help but notice that he brushed a little against her back in the process of withdrawing it.“Sleep okay?”

“I slept great,” she replied honestly.“Better than I have in a while.”She sat up and stretched.

“It’s probably because of how quiet it is here,” he mused.“I always sleep better in this house than anywhere else.”

She looked out the window and listened.He was right.There was barely any sound except the chirping of birds in a nearby tree.No road noise, no honking horns, no police sirens, no creaking pipes in the walls of her old building.

“Breakfast?” he asked and she grinned.

“Just let me put some real pants on.”

He nodded and hopped out of bed, grabbing a shirt from his suitcase and pulling it on.“I’ll meet you downstairs,” he told her as she hugged on a pair of sweatpants she’d never seen before (honestly she hadn’t even known that Bellamy owned sweatpants).

The kitchen was empty except for Bellamy, standing in front of the stove pouring egg into a saucepan.The ancient looking coffee machine next to him sputtered to life, pouring out a thick stream of brown liquid.

“You want toast, too?Mom or Dad already made bacon.”He pointed with the spatula to the foil-covered plate.

“Toast would be great, thanks, Bellamy.”

“There should be juice in the fridge if you want anything.”

She crossed the kitchen and pulled open the door, scanning the well-stocked shelves.She located the orange juice and pulled it down, taking two glasses from the cabinet and pouring.She slid him one and he grinned at her.

“Always nice when a girl remembers your breakfast order.”

She looked away, cheeks reddening.They sat down to eat at the kitchen island knees pressed together.

“These eggs are incredible,” she told him, taking a giant bite.“You have to tell me your secret.”

“One of Mom’s friends from church brings a new set by every few days.Probably no more than two days old.”

“Wow.So this is why everyone’s always going on about the farm fresh movement?”

He chuckled.

“Well, well, what is this?” Octavia asked from behind them.Clarke jumped a little.

The other girl leaned over her brother’s shoulder to steal a piece of his bacon.“I hope you made extra eggs, big brother.”

“There’s a plate waiting for you in the oven.”

She kissed his cheek loudly.“You’re the best.And don’t kill Clarke later, okay?”

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

Octavia smiled and dashed out the door, plate still in hand.Bellamy shook his head but there was a smile on his face.Clarke felt a small bloom of warmth somewhere in the vicinity of her stomach at the sight of it.

Horseback riding was not nearly as terrifying as Clarke had been anticipating.And Bellamy was a much more patient teacher than she could have ever imagined.He’d picked out the most docile of his family’s horses for her, a chestnut named Ranger, who plodded along at a pace that could be outrun by a snail.Clarke loved it.

And the views from the top of the canyon Bellamy took her out to were, as he’d promised at dinner the night before, nothing short of stunning.There was a river rushing fast and hard and frothy down below and a criss-crossing trail that led down to a beach pebbled with rounded stones.She’d been wary at first but Bellamy had insisted and she’d nudged Ranger down after him and the horse he claimed to love more than his sister (Clarke had it on good authority that this was a lie, there was not a single thing that Bellamy loved more than Octavia) and while she was biting her nails for 95% of it, she felt like she’d flown right into the frames of a cowboy movie, just her and her trusty steed off to save the day.

The bottom of the canyon was misting from the rapids and the rush of water was louder than she’d been anticipating but it was communing with nature in a way that Clarke had ever only experienced on nights with afull bottle of wine and the Discovery Channel.Bellamy had helped her down and showed her how to tie the horses to a washed out log and then had pulled a picnic basket down from his saddle and unpacked a sandwich spread that would have made a chef blush.(And it definitely made Clarke a little.)

They took their time on the way back, and it was late afternoon when they got back to the Blakes’ property, dusty and laughing.There were still several hours until Lincoln and Octavia’s rehearsal dinner but Clarke had maid of honor duties to fulfill and a shower to take and she told Bellamy she’d see him later.

Octavia and Aurora were in the kitchen, fussing over table settings when Clarke pushed the back door open and they both looked up at her and grinned.There was a mischievous glint to Octavia’s that Clarke didn’t like but she’d worry about that later.

“Did you two have fun?” Aurora asked and Clarke nodded.

“More than I was expecting.”

Behind her mother’s back Octavia waggled her eyebrows.Clarke shot her a dirty look and O grinned back.

“I’m going to shower,” Clarke said, “and then I’ll be back to help out.”

“Take your time, sweetheart,” Aurora told the place setting.“This is hardly fascinating work.”

By the time Clarke had showered and changed, they had migrated into the backyard, where the fake ceremony was to take place.A few small rows are chairs had been set up to form an aisle leading up to a flowered arch with a podium.Octavia was standing in front of it, her hands clasped behind her back.There was astarry look in her eyes that Clarke hadn’t seen since she’d first met Lincoln.

Clarke stepped up next to her and put an arm around the other girl’s shoulders.“You ready?”

Octavia’s voice was a bit weak when she said, “I’ve been ready for this moment for a long time.I just can’t believe it’s finally here.”

Clarke squeezed her shoulder.“I’m really glad I came.I’m sorry I wasn’t going to before.”

Octavia sniffed.“It’s okay, Clarke.Thank you.”

Clarke leaned her head onto Octavia’s.“I love you, O.”

“Love you, too, Clarkey.”

They stood there for a long moment and Clarke was overwhelmed by shame.She barely had any friends and out of the ones she did have, Octavia was her oldest friendship.And she’d been so prepared to beg off one of the biggest days of her life because she hadn’t wanted to get on a plane and meet her parents.Clarke couldn’t believe herself.

“What happened between you and my brother?” Octavia asked finally.

Clarke tensed.“What do you mean?”

“Well, like yesterday you were acting like you always do.Kind of this weird awkward two-sided sexual tension that makes everyone around you want to die—“

“Wait a minute,” Clarke interjected.

Octavia sealed a hand over her mouth.“Don’t be rude, I was answering your question.”Clarke glared at her and Octavia removed her hand.“Anyway, as I was saying.It’s weird.You act like you want to jump each other but then at the same time all you do is yell at each other.Raven and I have been trying to figure out if it’s your own weird twisted kind of foreplay for years.”

 _Raven the traitor_ , Clarke thought.

“But then this morning in the kitchen you’re fucking laughing and he made you breakfast and you’ve got some kind of afterglow and I really don’t want to know if you fucked my brother, Clarke, okay?But I do want to know if that ring on your finger is for real now.Or at least, if it might be one day.”

Octavia took her hand and smoothed a finger over the diamond.

“Because the only thing I can think of that would be better than having you as a friend would be having you as a sister.”

Clarke swallowed around a painful lump in her throat.“I, uh, no, it’s nothing like that.Octavia…” She looked at the other girl to see her brown eyes, so like Bellamy’s, fixed on hers, searching her face.“I don’t know what you and Raven see between me and Bellamy but there’s nothing there.He’s just doing me a favor.And I guess we’re just putting aside our differences to fool your parents.”

Octavia nodded, a wry smile on her lips.“Do you love my brother, Clarke?”

Clarke gaped.“I don’t even know how to begin to answer that question.No, of course not.”

“Not even a little?Like friends?”

“I’ve never thought about it.”

“Well, if I were you, I’d think about my feelings for Bellamy for a long hard minute.”She gave Clarke a meaningful look.“Okay?”

Clarke’s brows pulled together.Before she had the chance to say anything, Aurora was calling for Octavia from the house.

“Be careful, Clarke.And don’t you dare hurt my brother,” Octavia said before she turned and walked into the house.

Clarke stayed in front of that flowered arch for a long moment, thinking.She’d never had to think about her feelings for Bellamy before because they’d never been anything except clearcut.She’d hated him and then she hadn’t and that had been it.But even when she wasn’t hating him, she wasn’t actively _liking_ him.That’d be absurd.It was something else entirely, a bland emotion that floated somewhere between hate and like that she didn’t care to think of a name for.

But was that still the case?Or had Octavia and Raven and who knew who else been seeing something that Clarke hadn’t?Had she been so blinded by her once hatred for Bellamy that she hadn’t noticed when her feelings started shifting into icier and more dangerous territory?Did she like Bellamy?

Clarke thought back to the night before, wrapped tight in Bellamy’s arms, their fingers interlaced, breath mingling.She hadn’t felt that safe in a long time.Not even her “serious” relationships with Lexa or Finn had made her feel that way.

“Well, fuck me,” Clarke told the arch.“And fuck you, too.”

Then she turned and marched into the house ready for an afternoon of napkin folding.

 

Clarke might have had too much to drink at the dinner following the ceremony rehearsal.She came to this conclusion after her third glass of champagne when she looked over and saw Bellamy doubled over laughing at something a clean-shaved dark-skinned guy in his probably mid-twenties had said to him.

 _Miller_ , Clarke thought.

She’d heard a lot about Nathan Miller over the years she’d known Bellamy and Octavia.He was Bellamy’s childhood best friend and they were still on fairly good terms.They talked frequently and hung out whenever Bellamy came home but to her knowledge, Miller hadn’t yet made the trek out to San Francisco.He managed a restaurant, she remembered, and therefore couldn’t get the time off or scrounge up the money for a plane ride.

She’d also thought that Octavia had been fucking with her when she’d said one night their junior year of college that Bellamy and Miller had had a fling.Now though, it was painfully clear that she hadn’t been.The placement of Miller’s hand was too familiar for friends and that was a look that Clarke had never seen Bellamy give anyone but one of his conquests.Something akin to jealously twisted in Clarke’s stomach and she must have been tipsy because she didn’t even try to fight it.

She marched over and cemented her hand to Bellamy’s shoulder, leaning into him just enough to announce her presence.

“Hey, babe,” she said before she was even aware of opening her mouth.

Bellamy’s laughter cut off abruptly and he looked over at her with a look akin to one you’d expect after someone killed your pet.“Hey,” he managed and it came out strangled.“I was wondering what happened to you.”

“I was helping your mom clear dishes.”

“Oh.”

Miller was looking between the two of them, a little confused.He offered out his hand.“I’m Nathan Miller.”

“Clarke.Griffin.”

“My fiancé,” Bellamy added.

Miller’s jaw nearly dropped.“France?” he managed.“I didn’t know you were dating anyone.”

“We, uh, weren’t sure it was going to go anywhere,” Clarke started.“The relationship started on some rocky terms and uh, well…”

“We realized we’re perfect for each other.Right, sweetie pie?” Bellamy pinched her side and she jumped.

She knew that was payment for the babe comment earlier but he was absolutely going to be paying for that one later.“Right,” she said, smiling as she poked right in between two of his ribs where it’d hurt the most.He jolted.

“I think your mom was saying that she wanted your help in the kitchen?” she added and Bellamy nodded.

“Right, well, I’ll see you around, Nate.”

Miller raised his beer in acknowledgement.“Right.Nice meeting you, Clarke.”

“You, too!” she called after him.

When he was safely out of earshot, Bellamy tugged Clarke away from most of the group and hissed, “what the hell was that?”

“Me?What about you?You’re supposed to be _engaged_.”

“I’m aware of that, thank you, because if I wasn’t, _you_ wouldn’t even be _here._ ”There was a bite to his words that made Clarke shrink.Bellamy reeled away, a hand pressed to his forehead.“Shit, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No,” she replied scathingly.“You’re right.Because I’m the asshole, right?The asshole who wouldn’t even come to her oldest friend’s wedding?Thanks, Bellamy, nice to know how you feel.”

He was looking shell-shocked now.“Where the hell did this even come from?” he demanded. “We were fine this afternoon with the ride and everything and then suddenly…did I miss something?”

Clarke felt the anger drain out of her at the helpless look in his eyes.“No, it’s not you, it’s…well, to sound like every cliche ever, it’s me.”

Bellamy snorted.Clarke glared at him.

“I just…I saw you and Miller and I…I don’t know.”She looked away.“Forget about it, just because we’re fake engaged doesn’t mean we have to fake fight.”

She turned away but Bellamy caught her wrist, yanking her back.“Wait a minute,” he said slowly.“Were you _jealous?_ ”

“No,” she said too quickly.A grin spread across Bellamy’s face.

“You _are_ ,” he said wonderingly.“Clarke.Miller’s just a friend.Has been for years.We hooked up for like four months in high school when I was a confused dick bag and then realized I wasn’t into guys.”He pointed over Clarke’s shoulder.“That’s his boyfriend.Monty.They’ve been together since we graduated.”

“Oh,” Clarke said quietly.“Sorry.”

He laughed a little and she felt her cheeks burn red.“It’s fine.Nice to know that I’m worth getting jealous over.Really helps a guy’s ego, you know?”

Clarke smacked his shoulder but his smile just widened.He slung an arm around her shoulder and kissed the side of her head. “You had any of those tiny bruschettas yet?Because they’re _fucking incredible_.”

Clarke just smiled into his shoulder and let him guide her towards the buffet table.Maybe she was fucked but if it meant she got Bellamy like this, she didn’t care.

Clarke stopped drinking after that, and she noticed that during the course of the rest of the evening, Bellamy only had one beer.He did move his arm from around her shoulders but only to relocate it to around her waist, where it stayed.His thumb moved across her hip occasionally and Clarke felt light-headed.And after that, was it really her fault if she needed to lean against his shoulder?

Later, after the guests had left and the Blakes plus Clarke and Lincoln had cleaned up the backyard, Bellamy and Clarke wandered up the stairs and down the hallway to Bellamy’s room.He was quickly grabbing things form his drawers and preparing to disappear into the bathroom when Clarke stopped him.

“You can change in here, if you want.”She swallowed.“As long as you promise not to look.”

The look he gave her was long and searching.Then he nodded and turned his back.

There was something thrilling about stripping her dress over, leaving her in just her bra and panties, with Bellamy just behind her.She could see the faintest outline of him in the window across from her as she unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off his shoulders.She made herself look away and slid on her shorts and t-shirt, climbing into bed.He wasn’t far behind her, crowding up right close from the beginning and wrapping his arms around her, nosing into her hair.

Clarke squeaked.“Your hands are freezing!”

He chuckled.“Then you’re just going to have to warm them up, aren’t you?”

She looked up and froze.Their faces were inches from each other, so close that she had to go cross-eyed to look him in the eye.Her throat was dry.She couldn’t move except for to reach for his ice-cold hands, clasping them between her own and blowing on them lightly, rubbing them between her own.She almost missed Bellamy’s barely-there gasp at the feeling.

“Better?” she asked and her voice cracked in the middle.His eyes flicked up to hers and he looked _wrecked_.

“It’s always better with you around,” he said, and there was nothing but bare honesty in his voice.

They seemed to lean forwards at the same time, as if they were being pulled together by some otherworldly force.And really, if Clarke had ever sat back and thought about it, this was inevitable.Their lips touched, soft and gentle, and fireworks burst behind Clarke’s eyes.

 

Clarke woke the next morning burrowed into Bellamy’s chest with his head nestled in over hers and both his arms around her back.Her thoughts were hazy at best but she remembered…fuck.She’d kissed him.Or he’d kissed her.They’d kissed each other, she’d go with that.And that had been…it?Just one, simple press of the lips, and it had had that kind of effect?

 _Jesus Christ, Griffin_ , she scolded herself, _this isn’t middle school and you’re not playing spin the bottle.Pull yourself together._

She started to extricate herself from Bellamy’s embrace and was just prying his hand off her shoulder when she rolled over and his eyes cracked open, a sliver of warm chocolate brown that made Clarke’s stomach drop out.

“Morning,” he said and that warm gravelly tone was going to be the death of her.She needed to get out of here.

“Hey, uh, Octavia texted me.Something about a wedding dress emergency?I’m sorry to bail but I gotta go?”

He was more awake now and he looked a bit disappointed, a look that made Clarke want to do nothing but dive back into the covers and kiss him until all he could do was smile.But that was far from an option.

“Yeah, of course.Go.I’ll be with Lincoln for most of the day but I’ll see you out there right?”

“Of course.”She ran a hand through his hair, just because she couldn’t resist.“We’re walking down the aisle together.”

His answering smile could have replaced the sun.

Clarke had been hoping that her wedding day would be the exception to Octavia’s “never wake up before eleven unless you have a reason” rule and she’d been right.O was in the kitchen, stirring an absurd amount of sugar into a cup of coffee when Clarke wandered in, still in her pajamas with unbrushed hair.Octavia looked her up and down.

“Have a fun night?” she asked sweetly and Clarke glared.

“Is there more of that?”

O wordlessly handed her a mug.

“What happened?You and my brother looked awfully cozy last night.”

“Yeah, well we were,” Clarke grumbled into her mug.“Until he kissed me.”

Octavia almost dropped her coffee. _“What?”_

Clarke threw her hands up.“Or I kissed him.I don’t know.It was all kind of a blur.”

Octavia was in front of her in a second, hands on her shoulders.“Do you _know how long I have been waiting for this?”_

“It’s not like that,” Clarke protested.

Octavia’s fingers tightened then loosened.“Clarke, babe,” she said slowly.“You know I love you but you’re such an _idiot_.”

Clarke looked at her helplessly.“You asked me yesterday if I loved him.”

Octavia just watched her but there was a tautness to the other girl’s posture that Clarke recognized.

“Yesterday I told you that I barely even liked him.I lied.”Clarke swallowed.“I do love him.I love him a lot.”She felt the tears spill down her cheeks and O took the coffee from her hands an put it on the table, drawing Clarke into a tight hug. “Oh, babe. It’s going to be okay.I promise.”

Because Octavia was a good friend, she managed to keep Clarke away from Bellamy for the rest of the day.But there was no escaping the wedding and the walk down the aisle that Clarke was starting to dread more and more with every passing minute.Not even Octavia’s increasingly intense pep talks were doing anything to dismiss her anxiety.

“Clarke,” Octavia finally said, ten minutes before the ceremony’s start.“I swear to God, if you fuck up my wedding because of your dumb feelings for my dumb brother that you didn’t realize until now because you are _dumb_ I will be furious with you,so _help me God_.”

Clarke choked on her laugh.“Don’t worry, I won’t fuck up your wedding.”

“Good.Now go get ‘em, tiger.”

Octavia had three bridesmaids, two of her high school friends and a girl named Harper that Octavia worked with and Clarke knew vaguely from joint parties.She took her place behind them and Lincoln’s three groomsmen, and smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress, wishing she could do the same to her raging thoughts.

“You look beautiful, Clarke,” Harper whispered from two rows up.“And I’m sure Bellamy’s going to die when he sees you.”She smiled as beyond the white cloth separating them from the wedding’s guests, the orchestra struck up its tune.The first pair stepped up.

“Wow,” someone breathed and Clarke would know that voice anywhere.And it didn’t matter that she’d been steeling herself for this moment all day.There was something in Bellamy’s voice that made Clarke want to run.But she couldn’t, not when he was staring at her like that, with eyes wide as dinner plates, in a custom suit that she hadn’t known he owned that hugged his form in all the right places.“You look wonderful,” he told her as his gaze traced down the dark blue of her strapless maid of honor dress.

Clarke managed a smile.“So do you.”

He held out his arm.“Shall we?”

He was trying to be brave, she could see that in his eyes.And just because of that, Clarke let herself hope.

She took his arm and they squared their shoulders, ready to face the ceremony as the curtains were pulled apart to admit them.

The ceremony was beautiful.Octavia had looked stunning in white, her veil completing perfectly against the deep dark color of her hair.Lincoln had looked at her like she had put the stars in the sky and hung the moon and Clarke had almost been distracted from the gnawing pit of anxiety in her stomach by the the heartfelt vows they’d written for each other.

But there was little that could distract Clarke from Bellamy Blake.

He didn’t take his eyes off her once and there was something melancholy and sad there that made her feel like her heart was going to burst.And as hard as she tried, she couldn’t make herself look away.

At the reception, Clarke and Bellamy were seated on opposite sides of the bride and groom and she was almost thankful because it gave her a moment to not look at him, to gather her thoughts, and calm her galloping heart.After the speeches and toasts, when the first course had been cleared and the guests had dissolved into laughter and conversation, Bellamy stood suddenly and strode off, his walk stiff and awkward.

Octavia broke away from Lincoln to watch him go and turned to Clarke.“Well?” she demanded.“Aren’t you going to go after him?”

Clarke felt only the briefest moment of hesitation before she was out of her chair, practically sprinting after him in heels, holding the hem of her dress in one hand, protecting the delicate craftsmanship of her updo in the other.

“Bellamy!” she yelled as she got closer, yet still far enough away from the reception that they wouldn’t be seen or overheard.“Bellamy, wait!”

He slowed, then stopped, turned.And there was something in his eyes that made Clarke stop, too, breathing heavily in the tight bodice of her dress, face flushed.

“Where are you going?” she asked softly.

“I can’t do this,” he told her and his tone was almost biting.“I can’t be around you if you’re going to be like this.”

“Bellamy?” she asked, taking a timid step forward.

“I managed to tamp it down, Clarke, all this time, ever since we _fucking met_ and then you’re almost being deported and this weekend happened and _fuck_.”He shoveled his hands into his hair and Clarke was six inches from him now and she stopped.

“Bellamy,” she whispered.

“I’m not good with words, Clarke, we both know that,” he said haltingly, stumblingly.“But I just—“

“I love you,” she rushed out and he stopped, eyes deer-in-headlights wide.

“What?” he managed.

“I love you,” she repeated, reaching for his hands and cradling them in hers like she had the night before.“I’m sorry it took me so long to realize but I do.I love you.”

He opened his mouth but nothing came out.He closed it and then disentangled his hands.She felt her stomach drop.She’d misread the situation and he didn’t want her like she wanted him and she’d embarrassed herself and—

—and he was reaching out for her like a dying man would reach for that last drip of water and she was in his arms now and he was laughing and maybe even crying but she was probably doing the same and thank God for Octavia’s water-proof mascara.

“Wait,” she panted into his mouth, and he pulled back.“You were in the middle of saying something and I cut you off.”

He grinned.“I’ve been in love with you for years.”

“Great,” she said. “Now that that’s over….”

And that _laugh._ Clarke didn’t think she’d ever heard something that sounded so wonderful.He framed her face in his hands and leaned in, so slowly.Their lips pressed together for the second time and he tasted vaguely of salt and salad dressing but also like _Bellamy_ and Clarke wanted this taste on her tongue for the rest of her life.

She twined her arms around his neck and dug her fingers into his hair and his arms were wrapping almost too tightly around her waist but it still wasn’t close enough.She rose up on her tiptoes and kissed him again and again as his mouth opened under hers and this was better than fireworks.Because this was going to last.

**Author's Note:**

> Come chill with me on [Tumblr!](http://rebelprincebell.tumblr.com)


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